


Of Idiots and Tea

by OfficiallyZoe



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Trans Female Character, Trans Female Ferdinand von Aegir
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:48:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29799045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OfficiallyZoe/pseuds/OfficiallyZoe
Summary: Ever since she revealed her true identity to the world, Freya von Aegir has been subjected to lots of unwanted attention, especially from a certain red-headed boy.(A transgender Ferdinand is the main character in this story.)
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Kudos: 12





	Of Idiots and Tea

**Author's Note:**

> This small story was inspired by a discussion I had with some friends in a Discord. I hope you will enjoy it :)
> 
> Content warning: mention of transphobia.

Freya von Aegir opened her eyes, threw off the covers, and got out of bed; then, shivering a bit because of the chill, she quickly washed her face with ice-cold water, dabbed it dry, and set to put on her make-up.

Behind her she heard her roommate stir. Petra rose to a sitting position on her own bed, and looked at Freya.

“You are still doing it, today too,” Petra said.

“Yes,” Freya replied, carefully tracing the outline of her eyelid with a thin brush dipped in a black paste.

“I am sorry, but I do not understand what is the use,” Petra continued. “With all the exercise we do during the day, it will only get smudged off, and soon.”

Freya waited to answer until she’d painted her lips, a pale pink to avoid contrasting with her red hair, which by now had reached her shoulder. “The use – the point – is that if I don’t do it, no one will see me as I am. No one will see me as a girl.”

Petra shrugged. “Plenty of people do.”

_Do they?_ Freya wondered, as she got up from her vanity and started to get dressed.

Yes, it was true that the faculty at Garreg Mach had apparently accepted her self-declared femininity; more than her own father, at least, who had disowned her as soon as he heard the news. Professor Byleth had been excellent, declaring right away that whoever gave Freya any trouble would have to answer to them, personally; Professor Manuela, surprisingly, was right on Byleth’s heels, and together they had lobbied Archbishop Rhea, hounding her day and night until, apparently out of exhaustion, she had put out an official edict confirming Freya’s new name and gender.

And it was also true that several of her fellow students had led the charge in trying to get the rest of their class to accept her, especially Petra – who was now her best friend, besides being her roommate – but also, surprisingly, Dedue, Prince Dimitri’s retainer. It was probably the fact that they were both foreigners, that they both knew what it meant to be persecuted for something outside your own control.

And Edelgard had been very good, too: using her authority as heir to the Empire, she had even expelled a couple of the Black Eagles from the House when they’d pulled a cruel prank – which was best left forgotten – on Freya. (Though Freya still resented Edelgard a bit: even after everything that had happened, she was _still_ her superior, because of how effortlessly beautiful and feminine she could be.)

Other people had been… Less than accepting, though. Take Ingrid, for example: she refused to even acknowledge Freya’s existence, pretending she didn’t see her and not speaking a word whenever chance, or classes, brought them together. Freya had even heard a rumour that she’d been planning to ambush her at night, to punish her for ‘usurping femininity,’ until the Dumb Couple, Hilda and Raphael, took her aside, and made it _very clear_ that if something happened to Freya, Ingrid would immediately face the consequences.

Most of the student body, however, seemed to have taken the change in stride; she was just a fellow student, how they treated her hadn’t changed one bit. Even though she sometimes wished they would. It was something along the lines of: I’m a woman now. Please acknowledge it.

At least she had made some friends she hadn’t had before, like Petra. Or Hilda, or Annette. The four of them always had breakfast together, and that’s where she and Petra were headed her to right at that moment as they left their room. With some luck, they would avoid…

“Oh, this is such a beautiful morning, isn’t it?” said a voice behind her. “The sun is shining, there isn’t a single cloud in the sky, and a beautiful flower is blooming.”

Sighing deeply, Freya turned around.

“Sylvain.”

“Did you sleep well, Freya?” Sylvain asked. “You must have; they talk about _beauty sleep_ and I must say, you’re looking especially dazzling this morning.”

Sylvain was the only person who had completely changed in how he treated Freya. It was like night and day: one moment she was a comrade-in-arms, sometimes a rival, and the next he was courting her mercilessly. At times it made Freya’s skin crawl, to be completely honest. Was this what women had to face, day in and day out?

“Yes, Sylvain, I did sleep quite well. Thank you,” Freya replied, keeping her voice flat. “Now if you’ll excuse me, Petra and I were headed for breakfast.”

“Oh, what a coincidence!” Sylvain said. “I’m going to the mess hall, too. Mind if I join you ladies?”

_It’s not a coincidence at all, you all but ambushed us,_ Freya thought. But still, she couldn’t well refuse, could she? It was just a brief walk, and then it would be done with.

She gave a brief nod, and the three of them started along the courtyard, heading to the mess hall. Along the way Sylvain kept trying to engage her in conversation, giving her compliments and flattering her, but she barely acknowledged him.

“Well, here we are,” she said finally, as they reached their destination. “Thank you for the pleasant walk, Sylvain, and have a good day.”

She made to walk inside, but Sylvain stopped her, putting a hand on her arm; she looked up at him in surprise.

“What do you think you are doing, Sylvain?” Petra asked, steel in her voice. “You do not touch a lady without her permission. Remove your hand, or I shall cut it off.”

Petra wasn’t armed at that moment, but the threat had its intended effect: Sylvain stepped backwards, and raised his hands in a peaceful gesture.

“Whoa, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said. “I apologise. I just wanted to ask the lady in question if she wanted to have tea with me this afternoon.”

Freya looked at him. There was no hint of deception on his face, no apparent irony in his voice; too many times she had heard someone call her a _lady_ with mocking stress on the word, but Sylvain hadn’t done that: he looked to be completely on the up and up.

Still, Freya had had too many bad experiences since her coming out to be so easily trusting.

“I’m sorry, but I have to mind the horses this afternoon,” she said.

“Some other time, then?” Sylvain asked.

The glance Petra gave Freya said it all: some people just don’t know when to quit, do they?

But still, Freya didn’t feel like just brushing Sylvain off. “Some other time, maybe,” she answered.

Freya was amazed when Sylvain _smiled_ : she had no idea he could even smile like that, his face just brightened all of a sudden.

_He has a really nice smile when he’s not trying to be a smug ass._

_Wait, what the hell am I thinking?_

“I’ll ask you again, then,” Sylvain said. “Have a nice day, my flower.” He turned around and walked away.

“What, in the name of Seiros, are you even doing?” Petra asked; she was looking at Freya like she’d grown another head.

Freya blinked. “I… Don’t know,” she replied. “He was just so… Earnest. I felt bad about shooting him down.”

Petra kept staring at her for a couple seconds, then shook her head. “You have signed your death warrant, my friend.”

\-----

“Hello, my shining star. Would you like to get tea today?”

“I’m sorry, but I have spear training.”

\-----

“Good evening, lady. Are you free tomorrow? There’s a nice, shaded spot on the eastern ramparts. Perfect for tea.”

“I’m afraid the Black Eagles have combat training tomorrow, we’ll be in the field all day.”

\-----

“Good morning. I must say, your hair is looking especially beautiful today. Did you do something to it?”

“If this is about that tea, I have to help Tomas tidy up the library; I’ll be too tired to properly enjoy it.”

\-----

“Hello, my sweet rose.”

\-----

“How are you doing, my shining sun?”

\-----

“Good afternoon. I must say, you look dazzling in that dress.”

\-----

Freya slammed the tray down on the table.

“Seiros help me, he drives me crazy,” she groaned out as she took a seat.

Petra looked up from her meal. “I have told you.”

Annette smiled shyly. “Is this… About Sylvain?”

“Of course it is,” Freya said. “Ever since I gave him a _maybe_ to his invitation to tea, he’s been pestering me without end. Every day. It’s insufferable. _He’s_ insufferable.” She looked around the table at her friends. “How do you even put up with it?”

“Welcome to womanhood, my girl,” Hilda said, and flexed her arm. “Want me to smash some sense into him?”

Freya smiled. “No, thank you, it’s not necessary,” she replied. “And it’s _smack_ some sense, not _smash_.”

“Not if you use an axe.”

Freya shook her head. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.”

“But yes, we have been putting up with him for years now,” Petra said. “It is actually amazing how quickly he adjusted to your… Change.”

“Adjusted?” Freya said, blinking. “What do you mean?”

“We mean he started chasing after you the moment he heard you were actually a girl,” Hilda replied. “Like, right away. Didn’t even hesitate. As soon as you said you were a woman, he had you in his sights, even though you still looked like a man at the time.”

“It is remarkable,” Petra nodded. “I think he is the only man in the monastery who made the switch immediately.”

“He…” Freya began to say, then stopped. She thought back. “He is, actually.”

At that moment, thanks to her friends’ words, she realised.

Everyone had had some difficulties. Most people took a while to adjust to Freya being a girl. Some still hadn’t, even though they were trying. Some outright refused to.

Not Sylvain.

In his own bizarre way, Sylvain had accepted Freya for who she was right away.

Unwittingly, Freya found herself staring into nothing, a forkful of food halfway between her plate and her mouth.

“Freya?” Annette asked. “What are you thinking about?”

Freya shook herself. “I was thinking--”

“Call a priest!” a voice shouted. Freya looked up to see Ashe standing in the door to the mess hall, outlined by the morning sun that shone outside.

“Why? What happened?” Professor Byleth said, rising to their feet.

“It’s Sylvain. He and Dedue were sparring, and he messed up a parry, and…”

Freya didn’t hesitate: she was out of the door before her friends could ask where she was going. She ran all the way to the training grounds, several professors and other students following behind her.

When she arrived, Sylvain was lying on the ground, a nasty wound across his chest, his head cradled by Dimitri, while a guilt-stricken Dedue was looking on.

“Sylvain!” Freya exclaimed. “Seiros, are you alright?”

Dimitri looked up at her in surprise. “Ferd-- Freya? What are--”

“Move aside, please,” said another voice. With some difficulty, Marianne made her way through the throng of people that had gathered around, pulled out her book, and cast Physic onto Sylvain.

The wound quickly knit together, and the red-haired boy started groaning and stirring. He opened his eyes, and looked right at Freya.

“Good morning, my flower,” he smiled. “I must say, I love how the sun reflects off your eyes.” He paused. “How about that tea? Are you free today?”

Freya just looked at him for a few moments, then she shook her head. “You complete, utter, hopeless _idiot_ ,” she said. Then she took a deep breath. “Is five in the afternoon a good time for you?”


End file.
